


A Lock with a Room Inside

by signalbeam



Category: Shoujo Kakumei Utena | Revolutionary Girl Utena
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Missing Scene, Shippy Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-08
Updated: 2013-09-08
Packaged: 2017-12-26 00:26:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/959386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/signalbeam/pseuds/signalbeam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A rainy Sunday in the chairman's tower.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Lock with a Room Inside

There was only one way out of Ohtori, or so it was said. It was a road that, from the academy, went down a hill, through the town, into the woods, over a river, and then went on for a while further downward. At a certain point it forked, one side tapering off to a narrow dirt path, and the second one paved and headed straight up a dark mountain covered with tall trees. 

It was said there were people who lived on the mountain, though this had never been verified. It was true that when Touga was ill Nanami took a helicopter every evening to return home to visit him, and that helicopter was seen going over the mountain and coming back to the school. By technicality this only proved that there were things beyond the mountain, not on it, but such concerns and distinctions mattered little to Utena. By technicality, it only meant nothing to Utena because she knew nothing of the mountain or the things people said of it, but knowing wouldn’t have changed the bald fact of her indifference. She was not the kind of person who felt threatened by things she couldn’t see. 

It was not often that Utena went jogging on the main road. On that morning, a Sunday, Utena went to the track and found it under maintenance. The maintenance was regular and came at some set interval every so-and-so months, but Utena was new to the school and new to running, besides. The morning was unseasonably humid. It would have been more tolerable had there been some wind, any wind. She arrived at the track with her shirt flattened down to her shoulders, saw the workers and the signs, and stretched her triceps while she considered her options. By the time she started stretching her back, a member of the track team spotted her and told her about the road. And so off she went. 

She never ran before coming to the academy, and didn’t do much running until she met Anthy. She used to spend most of her spare time in a state of constant play, basketball or baseball, volleyball or tennis, but the more time she spent with Anthy, the more time she spent alone. 

Anthy was no good at sports, not at shooting hoops or serving or returning at tennis. In water, she sank like a sad, punctured balloon. So gradually Utena became the girl on the track, setting up hurdles to fly over and setting them back up when she knocked them over; running in loops shaped like a bicycle chain drawn tight over gears, while Anthy watched from the grass, or watched her from the tall tower of their home. In the evenings, she’d swim, and that was even lonelier, since Anthy never accompanied her to the pool the way she would sometimes follow Utena to watch her run. There were things Anthy had to do in the evenings, and there were some kinds of futility she had grown tired of seeing, no matter how smoothly executed. 

At the fork in the road Utena took the path leading to the dark mountain. The people who knew these roads would have told her the dirt path looped around the hill and back to the academy, but she was alone and knew nothing of where it’d take her. A nice breeze started then. There was no reason to stop. 

On the mountains, the trees grew thick enough that there was barely any sunlight, and at every gust the branches flapped their arms in deep annoyance. She saw a river by the side with a path by it, and decided it was time for a drink; but it took her another mile to find a place where the river was deep enough to be more than a stagnant, mosquito-infested puddle or a mouthful of mud. 

At that point, not far from the water, was a sudden drop overlooking a blackened village. Utena went straight up to the edge, looked down at the burnt buildings, the skeletons with their charred hands clinging to the still-standing doorframes, the singed graveyards with ashen flowers and incense, and whistled. 

“Wow!” she said, and flexed her foot. 

*** 

She returned to the astronomy tower wet from the rain. She splattered water everywhere she went, from her hair and her forehead, from her shins and her running shoes. She went straight for the kitchen, poured herself a glass of water, and guzzled. 

“Welcome back, Utena-sama,” Anthy said from the bedroom. 

“Yo!” Utena called. She squeezed her hair in the sink, without much success. For a girl with such long hair, she had never put much thought into managing it. For example: she could never sit still long enough to use a hairdryer, and when she took showers at night, she inevitably woke up in the morning with a cold, damp pillow. Her pillow smelled like chlorine and cheap shampoo, though over the weeks someone had her drugstore all-in-one replaced by elegant bottles from France. Utena had noticed, but did her best not to. 

In the bedroom, Anthy was sitting on the floor with her back against her bed. She was still in her nightgown, though she had gone through the trouble of pinning her hair up. By the windows were Anthy’s soaked clothes hanging on the drying rack. The air smelled of detergent and wet clothes. 

“Oh no! What happened?” 

“No. Nothing. I was hanging my laundry to dry when the rain started.” It was the truth, though Anthy omitted the part where she had been in the greenhouse tending to the roses. Preparations had to be made for the coming weeks. It would not always be summer in Ohtori, though winter only came rarely. 

Utena patted one of the socks, and frowned. To her eye, it seemed as though Anthy had gotten every article of clothing she owned soaked. “You could borrow some of my stuff. My gym clothes? Wait. I haven’t washed those yet.”

There was a peculiar silence. Anthy seemed deeply absorbed with something in her lap. “I’ve laid your school uniform on the bed.” 

“I wonder if I have any other clothes.” 

Anthy made a strange clicking sound. 

“I thought I had more than just this uniform,” Utena said, gesturing. “And what am I going to do when winter comes? I don’t think I have anything that goes past the knees.” She shucked off her wet clothes and changed. When she finished, she sat on the bed and peered at Anthy to see what was making the strange noise. She expected a dog, or a strange new breed of millipede, but instead in her lap was a sweater, half-done and red. “I didn’t know you could knit.” 

The needles clacked together in response. 

“Who’s it for?” Utena said. “Someone you like? Akio-san?” She pointed at herself jokingly. “Me?” 

“Yes,” Anthy said. Her eyelids were lowered and her mouth was a careful line, straight as steel. All Utena could sense was the insinuation; the noise of a rustling veil. 

“Himemiya! You’re making fun of me.” 

It was quiet, except for the rain. 

“Yes, Utena-sama,” Anthy said with a smile. “I am.” 

Utena put her pinky in her ear, and shook it. “Ha,” she said. 

***

“It’s not my color,” Utena said later. It was still raining. The clouds darkened the sky and it was hard to see the rain except for when one or two drops reflected the light of the room back at them. Utena was on Anthy’s bed, flat on her stomach. Anthy remained on the floor, still knitting. “I’m just saying, it’s not. It’s red. My hair’s pink. There’s color theory. I don’t know. I feel like I clash with everything. I won’t look very princely in a turtleneck.” 

“I can make it a dress if you prefer, Utena-sama.”

“Eugh, forget it. Where did you learn how to knit?” Anthy’s needles clacked together. Utena rolled over onto her side so her knees knocked together. In theory the bed was identical to hers, but both the mattress and pillow were unnaturally soft, as though they were an overcorrection for some greater pain. The slightest movement made the feathers rush to a new place. It was personal preference, Utena thought, since she was certain that most injuries would have required a switch to a harder sleeping surface. She wondered, briefly, about the alignment of Anthy’s spine, before turning her thoughts back to the knitting mystery. Anthy could have learned it from friends, that was a possibility. But of course, Anthy didn’t have many friends. “A book?” she guessed. “Akio-san himself? Does Akio-san have any sweaters?” 

“All the sweaters I give him strangely disappear.” 

“How awful! You put a lot of hard work into making them. He should keep one to wear around the house, at least. Let me see if the one you're making fits me.” 

“There’s no need—”

She took the sweater from Anthy before she could finish, and held it against her body. She guessed it could fit her. It was warm and comfortable against her body, though the wool itched on the underside of her jaw and against her neck. She scratched her chin, and saw, at the foot of Anthy’s bed, Chu-chu scratching his ears with his back leg.

“Utena-sama.” Anthy’s eyes were glassy, though the edges of her mouth were soft and genuine. She slid her hands on top of Utena’s, her palms warm as though with fever. The tip of her middle finger rested on the rose crest on her ring, then dug in. Utena could smell the roses that always clung to Anthy, carried by her heat. The sweater pressed between them. She was burning up. “You never told me about your parents. Does it pain you to think of them? They must have been good people.” 

“I guess.” They had been normal people, not extraordinary in any manner except the shortness of their lives and the bleak tragedy of their death. She had loved them when she was young, but now that love was only remembered, like hunting for constellations while only knowing their names. Cygnus the Duck, or the Goose or the Chicken, or whatever. Capricorn the Ram or the Goat or… the fish one. Constellations, stars, and planets. Her body grew hot from the weight of Anthy nearly on top of her. She turned her head to the side. “Himemiya, what were your parents like?” 

“I never knew them. My brother has been taking care of me for as long as I can remember.” Utena turned her head again, so she was staring straight into Anthy once more. It was plain enough what was going through Utena’s head: the starkly felt pain, the noble sorrow. There were far more terrible things than being orphaned, Anthy wanted to say. The words welled up in Anthy’s throat. Then she thought of a plan to show the truth rather than to say it. Ah, but then what would become of Utena then? She chose to smile. 

“I’m sure they must’ve been good people, too. Akio-san’s a great guy! And you’re my good friend…” She silenced herself. Anthy’s gaze was calm and cool, swirling with thoughts. It was how she looked at night, younger in the soft cradle of her bed. Utena wanted to ask that question she had asked however many weeks ago, if there was something Anthy wanted her to know; but then Anthy pressed closer, breathing in. 

They fell against the bed, Anthy on top of her, the too-soft blankets beneath her. She stiffened, then relaxed. But Anthy was her friend, her good friend, her very good friend. There was nothing to fear. “Get up,” she said. Her voice was strangled and soft. “I haven’t showered yet.” 

“Forgive me, Utena-sama. My arms grew tired.” Anthy’s fingers hooked under hers, and lifted the sweater away. She moved back onto the floor and put the sweater in her lap. 

“We should start you on a weightlifting program,” Utena mused, rolling onto her stomach again. “Or maybe your iron’s low.” 

“Ah. I’m on a diet, Utena-sama.” 

“Really? That’s okay, too. I’ll always be around to protect you.” 

“Yes, Utena-sama,” Anthy said. The needles moved through the sweater, vanishing and reappearing, and clacking against each other. The rain slashed against the windows and glimmered like silver knives. 

*** 

Anthy’s clothes still weren’t dry by nightfall, and it was still raining. Worse, the rain had brought a chill. If they didn’t get this done tonight, they’d smell detergent all night long. 

“A hairdryer,” Utena said finally. “We need a hairdryer. Do you have one, Himemiya?” 

“I don’t.” 

“What about Akio-san?” 

“I don’t know, Utena-sama. Would you like to check his bathroom?” 

“Himemiya!” 

“You’ve been to his room many times,” Anthy said, and smiled. 

“Yeah, but not his _bathroom_ ,” she said, as though this was the important difference. Sure, she had been to Akio’s room, but that was during the day, and not on the weekends. She always found it weird how there was no bed, just that white couch. There were probably blankets in a closet or something. Maybe the couch was actually a futon? Maybe he kept all his furniture in the telescope. Anthy only stared at her with that smile, like she was goading her on. Utena made a face and said, “Well, _fine_. If you _insist._ Is Akio-san in?” 

“No. He is not in. I’ll have the tea ready for you when you’re done, Utena-sama.” 

“I’m not going to spend that long in there,” she said as she opened the door. She didn’t have to look back to sense Anthy’s smile. It could have been an encouraging smile, Utena told herself, or maybe Anthy found it funny to torment her like this. She sure had a weird sense of humor sometimes. 

Her heart pounded the closer she got to Akio’s room. Lately her skin felt tight whenever Anthy mentioned Akio and said her name at the same time. ‘Utena-sama.’ It had never sat well with her to begin with, but lately hearing it, that ‘Utena-sama,’ could make her feel either a prick of guilt, or a slow, electric tingle right in the middle of her spine. 

She was right at the door. She put a hand on the knob, turned it, but didn’t enter. She heard something rattle. It was probably just Chu-chu, she told herself. Chu-chu, or something that lived in Anthy’s closet. One of her octopuses that she was keeping in Akio’s room for storage. But the thing on the other side had a heavy, dark sound, like the footfalls of a man. “Hello?” she said. She was getting lightheaded. “Akio-san?” 

***

She was back with the hairdryer ten minutes later. 

“Found it,” she said, and put it on the kitchen island. 

“Oh my. What took you so long, Utena-sama?” 

“You know what took me so long!” She sat at the island on one of the tall stools and kicked her leg out. “There were all these doors! I had to open each one of them. And only one of them was the bathroom.”

“Oh my.”

“I hate it when you two do that.” 

“Do what?”

“You know what!” But it occurred to Utena that Anthy might not know it. She was—Anthy wasn’t much good with people. “When you and Akio-san team up on me. Although—you wouldn’t do that to me. Right?” 

The tea kettle whistled. Anthy busied herself with preparing the tea. She hummed as she removed the kettle from the stove, she hummed as she checked the temperature. The only noise was that tuneless song, the water entering the cup, and the hissing steam. She set two cups down on the table along with some biscuits. 

“Ah! Hot.” Utena blew cool air onto her fingertips and shook her fingers to cool them faster. 

“Do you believe all siblings get along, Utena-sama?” 

“They _should._ Unless you mean Miki and Kozue-san?” Utena lowered her head so it was level with the teacup. She reached towards the tea with the very tip of her tongue. “Ouch!” 

“Don’t you know, Utena-sama?” Anthy said. “There’s a story about a man and a woman who disappeared from this world. Their children, a brother and a sister, were cast aside from their town, since they had no one to support them and no one wished to take them in. They went into the woods to forage for food and found a trail of crumbs. But this trail led to a village of wicked witches. The witches pinned them both to the ground and said to them, ‘Whichever of you joins us will be spared, but the other must be eaten.’ The brother volunteered himself to die. Afterwards, his ghost went back to the village that cast him out and burned it down for throwing them out to begin with.” 

Utena said nothing. She stared at Anthy with wide-open, guileless eyes. She was so easily led, yet opaque to Anthy’s eye. Like a horse that had no idea it had been broken-in, and ran as though it was free. A beast like that could make the rider bitter—breaking something was to take possession of it, in a way, and it was annoying when the thing refused to obey the laws of ownership. 

“That reminds me. I saw something today on my run. A village that was all burned down. I wonder why no one ever mentioned it.” 

“Was it full of witches, Utena-sama?” 

“No,” she said, though her eyes flickered downward uncertainly. She leaned back in her chair, her tongue pushing against her cheek. “That story sounds like one of those weird plays the theater club keeps putting on.” 

“You’re right, Utena-sama. I must have watched one.” 

“Yeah,” Utena said, and relaxed. She blew on her tea again, and drained the rest of it in a gulp. When she breathed out, she could feel the heat in her sinuses, in her nostrils; a live creature swirling in her chest. “Enough chitchat. Let’s go dry your clothes.” 

She stood up and held out her hand to Anthy. Anthy sipped her tea slowly, without cooling it. It was worth subjecting herself to minor pains, the ones caused by nothing, to remind herself that it was the world that drove people steadily to evil. There was nothing that she was doing here that would not be done later. It was time that was the corrupter, and the inevitable nature of man, and the worse nature of women. That was the single virtue of the young: their innocence. 

Unexpectedly, she felt a sudden cold, bursting pain, as though she had pricked herself with a needle or worse, something within her broke, like a tree in the winter cracked by its own sap. “Utena-sama!” she cried out before she could stop herself. 

“Come on,” Utena said. She had not noticed Anthy’s startle. She was earnest and in a good mood, and against the gloomy, tall glass windows, she shone with a singular light. “Did you think I was serious about you and Akio-san teaming up on me? Himemiya.” 

“Utena-sama,” she said. She left her tea unfinished. She pinned the hairdryer to her body with her elbow, and let herself be taken away. 


End file.
